“I’m very worried about Tora,” he confessed to Seimei. “It’s not like him to stay away so long. I think I must go to Kobe and ask if the police have any news.” He did not add that if they did it would be bad.

Seimei understood and said, “Surely the superintendent would have informed you.” But instead of commenting as usual on Tora’s indestructible good luck, he murmured something about distressing times.

Akitada thought of his last meeting with Kobe. “The trouble is, I’m afraid I have offended the good superintendent.”

This disconcerted Seimei. “How is that possible? You have always had great respect for him.”

“I did. I do. It was all a misunderstanding.” How little his proud memorial mattered now.

“In that case, you should certainly clear up the matter immediately,” Seimei said firmly. “Remember, a man’s actions will return to him.”

Akitada sighed. He had only just got home and was tired, and the prospect of making an apology was very unpleasant. But he got to his feet obediently. “You’re quite right, as always. I’d better go now before he leaves for the day.”

The sun was setting over another hot, dry day. As Akitada crossed the Greater Palace grounds, a golden haze of dust hung over the curved roofs and mottled the green of the trees. At this hour the palace streets were usually crowded with officials and clerks on their way home, but not today. There was some activity around the emperor’s and the crown prince’s residential compounds, but this was mostly an increased presence of guards. Few officials walked between offices, and in the Shingon Temple a prayer service was being held. The Greater Palace was so quiet it made Akitada think that the government took no notice of the troubled city beyond its gates.

The atmosphere was very different at police headquarters. Here the courtyard bustled with red-coated constables and police officers, and small groups of unsavory-looking men stood about chatting. Akitada stopped a harried young policeman who took him to the superintendent. Kobe was in a large hall, bent over a table covered with papers and maps. Lower-ranking officers sat at desks, reading documents or writing reports as constables carried messages or stacks of documents between them. Kobe did not look up when Akitada reached his side. He asked impatiently, “Yes, what is it now?”

Not an auspicious start. Akitada cleared his throat apologetically. “I’m sorry to interrupt when you’re so busy, but I need some assistance.”

Kobe raised a drawn face, grimacing when he saw who it was. “You and the rest of the world. Is your need greater than theirs?” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, encompassing the room with its policemen, piles of documents, sheets of city maps, rosters of staff, and assorted unidentifiable matter.

“Er . . . has something happened?”

Kobe glared. “Yes, something has happened all right. There are people dying in this city at a rate which is beyond the wardens, the police, or the monks. If you cast a glance out the door toward Toribeno, you’ll see the thick clouds of smoke from the cremation fires. They are burning day and night now. And in the poorer quarters, people just toss their dead into the street. The houses of the sick and dying are an open invitation to thieves, and robbers are attacking people brazenly, knowing that the wardens don’t have enough people to stop them. We have five new murders. The markets are empty because farmers no longer come to sell their produce, and people are going without food. Tomorrow I’m supposed to supervise the distribution of rice to the hungry, but I don’t have enough men to prevent a riot. Now, what is your problem?”

Akitada was aghast. “But how can this be? It was only yesterday that the Grand Council gave its first public notice of an epidemic. How can the situation have turned desperate so quickly?”

Kobe sneered, “You’ve been an official long enough to know that procrastination is a fine art in our government. They’ve known of the danger for weeks and done nothing, hoping it would go away or thinking to prevent a panic. And then their first action was to release more criminals into the streets of the city. My own troubles started with the amnesty. But I really don’t have time to discuss it. You may wish to compose another memorial to the emperor on the subject of inadequate law enforcement during epidemics. And be sure to mention that general amnesties are counterproductive in times of crisis.”

Akitada flushed. “I owe you an apology. Believe me, the memorial was not intended to criticize but to give you additional support. In any case, I tore it up when I saw that it might be misinterpreted.”

Kobe shook his head, his eyes cold. “It doesn’t matter in the least. I really cannot take the time now for an exchange of civilities.”

Akitada knew then that he had lost a friend. He made himself meet those hostile eyes. “Yes. I can see that I came at the wrong time.” He hesitated, then gave up, defeated by the other man’s implacable face. “It was just that I was worried about Tora, but never mind.” He turned to go.

“What about Tora?” snapped Kobe.

Akitada paused. “He left three days ago to investigate the murder of the blind woman and never returned. It’s not like him to be gone so long without sending word. I’m afraid something’s happened to him and wondered if you had any news.”

Kobe frowned. “No, no news. He came here that day, I think. Wanting to speak to Ihara. Perhaps he told him what he planned to do.”

“Yes, he might have done that.”

“You haven’t seen him since?” When Akitada shook his head, Kobe clapped his hands. The harried young policeman responded. “Call Ihara,” Kobe ordered.

“Lieutenant Ihara has reported sick, sir.”

“Sick? Was he sick yesterday?”

“No, sir. He seemed all right. Just . . .” The young man hesitated, looking nervous.

“Well? Just what?”

“He was unhappy that he was expected to go among the sick people and even to touch them, when the emperor himself has ordered us to avoid them.”

Kobe scowled. “I see. Thank you. That’s all.”

When the young man had scurried off, Kobe said angrily, “You see how well the Grand Council has planned? Now my men are refusing to do their duty.”

“Perhaps he’s really ill,” Akitada said.

Kobe snorted derisively. “Ihara looks out for Ihara.”

“I think I shall go ask a few questions in the city. Tora thought the blind woman had connections with criminals.”

Kobe’s eyes narrowed. “She worked in the Eastern Market, didn’t she? Someone is extorting money from the merchants there. If Tora has tangled with that gang, he may well be in trouble. But in any case, you cannot do this alone. I have no men to spare tonight and it will soon be dark. Leave it till tomorrow and I’ll give you a couple of constables.”

Akitada had not expected even this much. He bowed and thanked Kobe.

Kobe nodded, then said, “Wait. If you haven’t spoken with Tora, you haven’t discussed the coroner’s report.”

“No.”

“It was at first thought that there had been no rape, but you may recall that the coroner did find evidence of sexual intercourse. It doesn’t help Tora’s case, but I thought you should be aware of the fact.”

Akitada said angrily, “It was not Tora. I have his word for it. How do you know it wasn’t the murderer raping her?”

Kobe sighed. “I don’t know, and neither does the coroner. She was no maiden. In fact, he says she had given birth.”

Akitada left with a heavy heart. Tora was in danger, and the murder of Tomoe haunted his memory. There had been so much blood. Blind and helpless, she had tried to escape a monster who had chased her, slashing at her all the while. Had he raped her first or when she lay dying?

Outside in the courtyard a band of the ragged men were leaving through the gate, trotting at the heels of a red-coated constable. Akitada turned to a policeman. “Who are those men?” he asked.